Missions, Story, Theology

What Mercy Has Been Shown To You?

A few years ago, I had the privilege of being invited to India to teach at a pastor’s conference. I was deeply moved by the experience.  I flew into New Delhi where I met up with a team of ministers that had come in to speak at the conference. One of my best friends from seminary at ORU, Jonathan Haward, was leading the team (www.GlobalInfusion.org). Jonathan and I had attended seminary with another student whose father was the founder of a large church planting organization in India called IET, India Evangelical Team (http://www.ietmissions.org).  It was this organization under whose auspices we were going to be teaching and ministering while in India.

From Delhi, we flew to another city that I will not disclose.  That was followed by an 8 hour jeep ride through jungles on dirt roads to get to the city in which we were hosting the pastors’ conference.  This city was not an urban center one might imagine in the U.S., Canada or Western Europe. There was one paved road through the city.  Burning barrels and tires lit up the night along side the road. Many of the buildings were ramshackle.  They were assembled out of concrete, plywood or a mixture of both, but lacking in finishes standard in 1st world nations.

On a Sunday, before the conference began, our hosts had set up opportunities for us to preach in local congregations. The congregation I spoke in required an additional two to three hours travel by jeep deeper into the jungle.  The regional pastor told me that they had never seen a Caucasian person before our team had arrived.  In preparation for the service, I sought the Lord for a Rhema word, a fresh spoken word for the congregation.  I didn’t want to bring a canned sermon.  I wanted something that would meet this village congregation right where they were at.

The Lord gave me a message that I didn’t expect.

Matthew 18 (NIV)- 

23 “Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. 24 As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him. 25 Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.

26 “At this the servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’ 27 The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.

28 “But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded.

29 “His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’

30 “But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. 31 When the other servants saw what had happened, they were outraged and went and told their master everything that had happened.

32 “Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. 33 Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ 34 In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed.

35 “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Now the traditional use of this parable is to emphasis the necessity of forgiving others so that our own sins will be eligible for the mercy purchased at such a high cost by Christ Jesus on the cross.  That was not the message that the Lord gave me for the church that day.  The questions that kept resounding in my heart was “Why did you not show the same mercy that was shown to you?” and “What mercy has been shown to you?”

The Church had no building to meet in.  The congregation gathered on a dirt floor, under a tarp that was attached to the pastor’s house.  There were three walls.  One was provided by the pastor’s home, and two provided by canvas.  There was no back wall.  About 50 people had assembled for the meeting that night.  The worship was simple but devout and filled with passion.  When the time came to present the message, I came humbly but with assurance that the message I would present was from the Lord.

“What mercy had been shown to you?” I asked the crowd.  “Have not men and women surrendered their lives that you would hear the gospel?  If not in your life time, have they not in the spiritual generations that have lead to this point, so that you might have a chance to receive the mercy afforded to you by the Cross?  Disciples of Christ have died to give you this opportunity. Are you willing to die that others would have that same mercy shown to you?  Or will you stand before a God who sacrificed Himself, and have him ask you, ‘Why didn’t you show the same mercy that was shown to you?’ “

During that meeting 10 people gave their lives to the Lord.  When I gave the audience the opportunity to commit their lives, even unto death, to share the mercy of our Lord with others, every soul there did so with zeal, including the 10 that had just surrendered themselves to Christ Jesus. Their cry of commitment was vehement and tear soaked.  As impassioned and inspiring as this response was, it paled in light of the revelation that was to follow.

Returning back to the hotel that night, we had a long jeep ride ahead of us.  The regional pastor shared some background about the church and village I had just spoken in.  Two weeks before I had shared my message and entreated these people to lay down their lives for the gospel, one of the congregation members had done just that.  A local villager, who was a devote and radical Hindu, had taken one of the women from the church and chopped her up with a machete.  He proceeded to spread her body parts all over the village as a warning to the other Christians.

When I heard this, I was broken.  Who was I to ask of these people to die for the gospel?  When had I been faced with such sacrifice? I began to weep without reserve.  I knew at that moment, if I would have known the recent history of this village I might not have been willing to bring the message that the Lord had wanted shared. I knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt that the message I had brought was  a challenge directly from the throne room of God.  I have seen many a teenager or college student commit to lay down their lives for the gospel with great sincerity at the altar.  Never have I witnessed it done by people who truly knew the cost, by people who had witnessed exactly what the price may be to call Jesus Lord of All.  Even those who had just committed their lives to Jesus that night, did so with vivid memories of the sight, sound, and smell of death, brutally paid by another believer.

I have never been so moved.  I have never been so humbled.  I have never been so emboldened. For the first time in my life I believe I truly understood what Paul was speaking of in Philippians chapter 1 (NRS).

12 I want you to know, beloved, that what has happened to me has actually helped to spread the gospel, 13 so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to everyone else that my imprisonment is for Christ; 14 and most of the brothers and sisters, having been made confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, dare to speak the word with greater boldness and without fear. 

I always understood what he was writing, but it never made logical sense to me.  What Paul was saying was a complete contradiction to human nature, at least in my experience.  As a youth growing up in school, when a student got caught violating a rule in class, they were punished.  Their punishment never inspired us to follow the same path of disobedience, but rather it instilled a fear that helped us keep ourselves in check.  Paul was claiming the something that was completely the opposite. He said that other believers were emboldened by his chains to preach the gospel.  Christians were invigorated to preach without fear or restraint by his suffering.  His negative consequences didn’t smother the embers of believers’ faith but fanned the flame of passion.  And now I understood.  It was not an intellectual comprehension but an experiential understanding.  I was emboldened by their testimony.  I was engulfed by a passion and fearlessness in respect to sharing the hope I have within me.

I am determined, that the day I stand face to face with my Lord, He will not have to ask me “Why did you not show the same mercy that was shown to you?”

So today, I ask you, what mercy has been shown to you?

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Missions

Truth that Cuts Deep (or the Importance of Circumcision)

In 1999, I was in Yalta, Ukraine on the Crimean Peninsula. I had a team of short-term missionaries that I was leading from Oral Roberts University (ORU).  It was a two month trip and we were nearing the end of the trip, but what we were doing at that time was not only the pinnacle of the trip and the primary goal of our time in Ukraine that summer, but it was the most fiscally straining.

We had come to Ukraine with a special agenda that summer.  We were not there to just “do” short-term missions.  We were there to train other short-term missionaries from a youth group in Kiev and facilitate a mission trip for them.  Due to obvious budget restraints, we were doing a domestic mission trip within the boarders of Ukraine.  We had selected as the target of our love and ministry, an unreached group of muslim’s known as Tatars.

Tatars were originally from Crimea, but had been deported wholesale by Stalin during World War 2.  A large portion of them ended up Uzbekistan.  After the collapse of the USSR in 1991 and the so called independence of Ukraine was established, the Ukrainian government welcomed the Tatars back to Crimea.  Tatars returned but they were not warmly welcomed by the actual inhabitants of Crimea, who at that time were largely of Russian descent (they walked in and took all of the Tatar assets after they were deported).   Their property and businesses were gone.  They were starting from scratch.

With a focus of our mission selected, we prepared a team of Ukrainians. Part of their preparation was fundraising.  We knew that the young students that would be going on this mission to Yalta, would not be able to raise or earn enough money to cover the actual cost of the trip.  We felt, however, that it was important for them to participate and to sacrifice for the trip.  We planned for our team budget to cover the shortfall between what they would raise and the actual cost.  This difference was significant.

Needless to say as our trip was nearing the end, our team funds were receding like Nicholas Cage’s hairline.  Money was tight and we needed to maximize every dollar.  That is what we had…dollars.  Of course, we needed to exchange those dollars to the local currency, Hrivna, to buy food, pay for transport, pay for housing, etc.  The problem we faced was that the official exchange rate was horrible.  Yalta was port town and a tourist destination and the exchange rate reflected that perfectly.  At the official, exchange booths or at the bank we were loosing an additional 10-15% over what we would get in Kiev.  Because of this, we exchanged our dollars in the open market.  Ukraine was full of grey markets.  This is how the majority of business was conducted in Ukraine.  We would go to the market, approach a stall owner or an unofficial money changer and do an unofficial exchange.  This would save us a lot of money.  They were happy, and we were happy.  That is until one of my Ukrainian friends, a translator for the team, changed money with the wrong guys.

I sent my friend, to the market to make an exchange like we did everyday so that we could buy groceries.  It was about two or three hundred dollars.  It may not seem like a lot, but that was 3 month’s wages for your average adult in Kiev at that time and as I mentioned the money well was drying up but we still had a team of 35 people to feed.  But I digress. My friend was in the market looking for someone to exchange with, when a couple guys from Azerbaijan, approached him and offered an awesome exchange rate.  He was ecstatic!  So money changed hands and everyone walked away happy.

My friend didn’t get very far before his elation turned to despair.  As he went to purchase food with the money he had just exchanged, he came to understand the age old axiom, the hand is quicker than the eye. The Azerbaijani money changers had walked away with hundreds of dollars and he had walked away with a few dollars worth of Hrivna.

My friend returned to me in shame, guilt and sorrow.  He knew our financial situation.  He knew he had just lost the equivalent of 3 months wages for his single mother.  He was shaking and in tears as he relayed the situation.  I comforted my friend and told him it was ok. But I was livid!  My righteous anger was a fiery blaze the size of Texas…in the mind of a texan.  The target of the vitriol was not my friend but a pack of Azerbaijani thugs.  In all honesty, I prepared for battle.  I put on my boots and I went looking for those guys.  I was ready to fight…literally.  At that time I was training in martial arts 2-3 times a week and I was confident like the captain of the Titanic.  Well our search was in vain at that time.  We couldn’t find the marketplace hyenas. We headed back to our apartment.  My friend took off for a while and I was left alone with the Lord.  I was praying about this situation.  I was furious.  I need the Lord to intervene.

About 2 or 3 hours later my friend returned.  He told me that the guys that had cheated him were back in the market.  Once again I prepared to engage them physically.  This time was a little different though.  Before we left the apartment, I prayed with my friend and another team member who was going to accompany us back to the market to confront the culprits.  As I prayed, I was brutally honest with the Lord about my feelings. I told Him that what had happened was wrong.  It was a crime.  I told Him that I would not stand for it and that justice needed to be served. I told Him that I was ready and willing to fight.

Here comes a key point…but my prayer ended quite differently than you would expect if you were plotting the trajectory of the prayer based on the take-off.  I told the Lord that despite all of my willingness to mix it up and seek justice, that I could not fathom how deeply inglorious His name would be seen by those who knew of the situation.  I asked Him to resolve this in a way that would bring Him the honor and glory that He deserved.

We left and headed for the market. As we approached, my friend pointed out where the guys I was determined to confront were.  I gave my team member that had accompanied us specific interactions.  I posted him on a street corner as an overwatch.  I told him that no mater what happened he was not to engage in the situation.  He was only to observe and report.  If anything bad happened he was to find my assistant team leader, brief her and then inform the police ( I knew that the police were going to be useless in this situation and their arrival would be too late if they were needed).  I then instructed my friend and interpreter to translate everything.  I didn’t care if he thought what I was saying was wrong or dangerous, I made him promise to translate faithfully everything I said and everything said to me.  He warily agreed.

With that taken care of we approached the group of men (approximately 6 or 7)  we had come to see.  I walked up to them and in Russian, I greeted them formally, and I introduced myself and my interpreter.  At that point, I let my translator take over.  I told them that I they had already, met my friend and that they had stolen money from him.  I told them I wanted it back.  They were irate. They denied any wrong doing.  I told them not to play games with me.  I told them it was a waste of time.  They knew as did I what they had done and they had to make it right.  The leader of the band, told me in no uncertain terms that I better leave and leave them alone or something bad was going to happen to me.  I told him that he was mistaken.  I assured him that if he didn’t give me back the money, that something bad was going to happen to them.  They were all shocked.  They began to ask my interpreter, who is this guy?  Is he someone important, powerful?  I answered for him.

I explained to them “I am no one important. I am not from here, obviously, but people here know me.  They know what I do.  I help people.  We are building a playground for Tatars in their local village, Samota. We work with the Church locally and orphans in Kiev.  You see, you think you have stolen from a man, but you haven’t.  You’ve stolen from God.  If you don’t give me back the money there will be consequences.”

The leader, named Andre, told me that they stole the money gave it to muslim orphan refugees.  I didn’t believe him for a minute, but I didn’t address the credibility of the statement.  Instead, I asked him “Where does it say in the Koran, to steal and give the money to orphans?”  He looked at me but didn’t say a word.

I continued “Besides, if you are a muslim, should you be praying right about now?”

He responded with a “Yes”.

Again I pushed forward, “Well then let’s pray together.”

Andre replied “I can’t.”

I asked “Why?”

“Because we are enemies,” Andre retorted.

“Why are we enemies?”

“Because you are a Christian and I am a Muslim.”

“Yes I am a Christian. But I am also a Muslim,” I declared.  Am I?  Can I honestly say that, I, a missionary for Christ, am a Muslim?  Maybe not in the classical sense, but in a wider sense yes.  You see, a Muslim is one who is submitted to Allah.  I believe that Allah is the Muslim name for Jehovah.  Allah is the God of Abraham. You might say that the Koran paints a different picture of Allah than the Bible paints of Jehovah and you would be correct.  It is propaganda.  The Koran is full of lies and character assassination contrived by Satan.  Consider George W. Bush.  He is the son of George W. H. Bush.  The written material that you would find on him in a Democrat’s library, let alone that of a Muslim in Iran or Iraq, would differ greatly from George W.’s autobiography.  In fact, they may well have other names that they call him by than the one he was given by his father.  Their perception of him as a person, his character, his motives and his history, may be far from reality.  Regardless of what they know or don’t know, believe or don’t believe about him, he is who he is.  When they are talking about him, they are talking about him, despite their misconceptions.

I told Andre and his company, “Yes I am a Christian. But I am also a Muslim.”  Then I began to tell them that I follow the 5 pillars of Islam.

“I haven’t been yet, but I hope to one day perform the Hajj” (the pilgrimage to Mecca that every Muslim should make at least once). “I practice Sawm (Fasting), Zakat (Tithing), Salat (prayer 5 times a day – Paul said pray without ceasing so why limit yourself to only 5 times), and Shahadah.”  Shahadah is the creed for Muslims.  There is no God but Allah and Mohammed is His Prophet.  I agree with that in part.  It is half right.  So I altered my declaration accordingly.

“There is no God but Allah and Jesus is His Son,” I proclaimed. And then for good measure I threw in the 6th Pillar of Islam, for the radicals (faithful muslims) in the house.  “And I practice Jihad.”  Jihad is often referred to as Holy War. This is the classical interpretation and understanding.  But it is actually the struggle that a muslim undertakes on behalf of Allah.  Teachers, preachers, and people who work with orphans all fall into that category.  So I said it with innocence like that of a dove, but with the wisdom of a serpent.  I wanted them to think of only the classical definition when it rolled off my lips.

When the Azerbaijanis heard these things, they looked shocked and they huddled up and began to talk amongst themselves.  Then Andre turned back to me and asked the big question.  “But are you circumcised?”

Allow me to pause the story here and give you a little additional information about this.

There is a grand tradition in not only Ukraine, but in most slavic and northern european countries that is known as the баня (banya). The banya is is essentially a sauna, with a few added peculiarities.  These banyas reach temperatures upwards of 93℃.  In a Ukrainian banta, men and women are separated.  Everyone is naked. People wear hats and gloves to insulate against the heat.  Banya goers take branches and hit each other with them to stimulate better circulation.  The experience is denoted by a cycle of going into the heated sauna then exiting and dousing yourself with ice water.  Although, my first time was nerve wracking because I was so far out of my comfort zone, it was exhilarating. A couple of  hours of cycling in and out of the heat and cold, ending with an hour long full-body massage and I felt like a Roman Gladiator primed for Battle.  “We who are about to die, salute you!”

The day before my encounter with Andre and his cadre, I had taken my mission team of American’s and Ukrainians to the banya.  Since, as I mentioned, everyone is unclothed, (except for the Babushka or grandmother, serving hot tea, thank the Lord – but awkward none the less) we try to keep our gaze upward above the horizon.  Despite this, one of my team member’s gaze fell below the equator and made an interesting observation.  All of the Ukrainians in the banya with us were, to the best of our knowledge and with limited inspection…uncircumcised.  This revelation prompted a discussion about the reasoning with our local hosts.  We came to find out that in Ukraine, unlike the USA, males were not circumcised at birth.  Only Jews and Muslims were circumcised there.  Out Ukrainian brothers, were as shocked as us at the difference between us. They wanted to know why we were circumcised.  We explained that although it was for the purpose of hygiene at this point, it was tradition in the USA (although this is changing).  I then began to prescribe for one of the Ukrainian brothers who was working as a missionary in Turkey to be circumcised.  I told him that it was important if he was going to be working with Muslims.  He vehemently disagreed.

He told me that Paul said that circumcision was of the heart and not the flesh (Romans 2:29). My suggestion alone terrified him I suspect.  Despite his apprehension, I laid out my case.  I told him, “Yes it is true that circumcision is of the heart.  Why then did Paul take his protege, Timothy to be circumcised?It is because, Paul also said that to those under the law we should be under the law.”

 

To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law.To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law.I am very proud of my translator.  He must have been so intimidated, but it was his fear of God that kept him there and being my voice.To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some.  – 1 Corinthians 2:20-22 NIV

 

“And although circumcision is not required for salvation, it maybe required to effectively reach those who are.  Timothy was ministering to the Jews, and therefore he and his mentor deemed it not only appropriate but a necessary strategy to win them to Christ.”

My friend was still not convinced by the daunting proposition. So I told them the following tale.

My roommate in seminary, had traveled 3 years previous (1996) to a village in Turkey on a mission trip from ORU.  He and his 3 team mates were in the village for a few weeks (after a crash course in Turkish on a 1 week stopover in London).  The entire time they were there they were treated like dirt.  They worked hard, helped out in the fields, acts of kindness, tried to build relationships, but they were largely rejected.  That was the daily outcome, until the last few days in the village.  The team recognized that the villagers were talking about them. They inquired as to what they were talking about.  The villagers told them that they were wondering if the missionaries were circumcised.  When they told them they were, everything changed.  They were treated like family.

Fast-forward one year.  ORU sent a second team.  The leaders were invited into the home of the village mayor.  His decorations were sparse.  In fact he only had three things adorning the walls of his house.  The first, a flag, the national flag of Turkey.  The second, a picture of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the national hero of Turkey. The third, a picture.  It was a picture of the first four missionaries sent from ORU.  The impact those men had was profound.  It would have been nonexistent if they hadn’t been circumcised.

Fast-forward two years. We are still in the banya, and despite my proof of concept, my Ukrainian brother was still not convinced.

Fast-forward one day.

Andre asks me the big question.  “But are you circumcised?”

With assurance I confess… “Yes, I am circumcised.  I am a son of Abraham and you have stolen from your brother.”

They were confounded.  They were shocked.

To prevent this long story from being longer, let me sum up the results of this interaction.  Andre and Co. returned the money.  They took me out to dinner.  Andre bought me a shirt.  I was invited to Azerbaijan to attend the circumcision of Andre’s son.  Although I was unable to attend that event, I was able to meet Andre’s son in Lugansk, Ukraine about 6 months later.  I don’t know if Andre ever received Christ, because we lost contact with one another when he was deported from Ukraine.  I hope and pray that he did surrender to Him.  What I do know, is that my prayer was answered.  Christ was glorified despite my fleshly response to an unjust and criminal situation. I also came away with a profound understanding that it is in the little things that we do (or not so little) in order to become all things to all men, that may make an eternal difference for those we are sent to love.

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Missiology, Missions, Practical, Theology

You Are What You Eat

When I was a young, short-term missionary, taking trips with my youth group to Mexico, my youth pastors would always conduct mandatory training sessions for the youth selected to go on the mission trips.  There were a lot of topics that were discussed. These topics ranged from how services were conducted, to proper attire, to warnings about absent creature comforts, interpersonal relationships with the team and the nationals, and FOOD.    

A verse that every youth pastor worth his salt, preparing a mission team, will trot out is…

“If you enter a town and it welcomes you, eat whatever is set before you.” (Luke  10:8 NLT)

     Or maybe…

“If someone who isn’t a believer asks you home for dinner, accept the invitation if you want to. Eat whatever is offered to you without raising questions of conscience.” (1 Corinthians 10:27 NIV)

Typically the youth pastor will at this point regale the captive audience with stories of gastronomic challenge; blood sausage covered in flies, the cow tongue in congealed fat, liver cake, insects, fish eyes, black eggs, unrefrigerated mayonnaise with blue mold on top, cobra venom sacks are just a few examples I have heard.  I have to say I have told more than a few stories about such things myself.  My greatest culinary gauntlet I passed through, was liver.  I know there are a lot worse things that  people have put in their mouths and chewed with a smile, but for me it was the singular trial that tested my resolve and my mettle, over and over again.  Other things may seem bad but it is liver that holds the top slot on my list of least favorite foods.  For some reason I have a serious gag reflex when it comes to liver.  Just the aroma itself makes me want to puke.  Despite this handicap, I have gagged down, with a smile (although strained at times…more specifically all the time and every time), a metric ton of cow liver during the course of my missions career in Ukraine.  The funniest (in retrospect) experience that I had with liver in Ukraine was during my first trip.

I was in a village.  The local church was conducting a baptism in the river.  This celebration is accompanied by a large picnic.  Everyone in the church and even many unbelievers bring food and celebrate the public confession of Christ.  Some of the local girls approached me and asked if I had gotten any of their cake yet.  I told them no and they graciously provided me with what appeared to be an huge slice of 8-layered, chocolate cake with white frosting.  (You already know where I am going with this.)  With great anticipation, I forked off a huge piece of the cake and as it neared my mouth, my nose picked up a distinct odor. Liver! The frosting…mayonnaise. This was not some Ukrainian chocolate masterpiece waiting to pleasure my palate.  This was a cosmic joke.  Loki the trickster of old was up to no good.  I hesitated, if only for a second.  I stuffed my face and punished my tastebuds. The ol’ gag reflex was hard at work.  But I manned-up, I put it down, and by God’s good grace, I kept it down.  And…I did it all with a smile.  Hallelujah!

Why did I do this? Why does any missionary subject themselves to such harrowing edibles?  Is it simply, the command of our Lord that solicits such sacrificial obedience?  Maybe that is the case for better missionaries than me.  Maybe that is the reason for missionaries, who have a faith that I will never know myself.  I, however, was unsatisfied with just a command.  I had to ask…WHY?!?!?  What is so important about eating what is set before you?  That’s what I want to know.  And that is what I asked of our Lord.

The gracious Lord, who allowed Thomas to touch His side which was pierced and to put his fingers in the holes in His hands, answered my inquiry.  He said “Because you are what you eat.”  Was this a trite reply?  Heavens no.  This was not some humorous explanation by an divine gym teacher warning us off indulging in too many Twinkies (thank Heaven).  This was a profound answer with deep implications about the human condition and our psycho-social identity.

You see we are what we eat, in the sense that our identity is inexorably tied to what we consume for sustenance.   When people offer us food, they are offering us a part of themselves.  It doesn’t matter if that food is blue ribbon, Kansas City, Baby-Back Ribs, or a juicy grub dug out from a rotting log in a rain forest. It is themselves they are offering.  So what happens when we turn up our noses at such a gift?  The tragic reality is that it is not the food we are rejecting as unworthy, but the person, the people group, the sheep lost waiting to be found.  To make the situation more appalling, you must understand that when we do such a thing it is not even us who is rejecting the people. It is not us who is deeming them unacceptable, but rather Christ.  That’s right Christ is rejecting and hurting those people.  Christ is alienating those people from Himself by deafening their ears and hardening their hearts to the reality of what He sacrificed for them on Calvary’s cross.  How is this?  Because we are Christ to those people.  What we do to the least of these, we are doing in His name.  We are His ambassadors, we are His voice, we are His hands, His body.

“Eat what is set before you” is not just a suggestion.  It is a mandate, with a very poignant reason behind it.  Will you arise to the challenge?  Or will you stand in opposition to the will of God? Remember Christ drank of a bitter cup for you.  He ate your sin.  What will you eat for Him?

Never forget… You are what you eat.

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Missiology, Missions, Theology

In the Beginning… part Deux

Take a look at the opening for the book of John.

In the beginning there was the Word. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. All things were made by him, and nothing was made without him. In him there was life, and that life was the light of all people. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overpowered it. (NCV)

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (NIV)

And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. (NKJV)

     “In the beginning.” This is a direct quote used very intentionally by John.  John, very much like his original audience, grew up hearing this turn of phrase repeated again and again and yet again.  This is of course because it was the opening phrase of the Holy Scriptures.  The book of Genesis starts in exactly the same way, albeit in Hebrew.  He and his audience heard the phrase read in the temple a thousand times. His own father and mother had probably told him the story of creation as many times themselves, always starting with the first phrase they knew by heart; “In the beginning,”.

No one in John’s original audience for his testament of the Life and person of Jesus Christ of Nazareth could hear or read those words and not be instantly transported to the time before creation.  With this fragment of a sentence, the scene was set, the stage was readied, and the curtain was drawn, for the greatest story ever told.

“In the beginning, was the Word.”  From the total context of the chapter we know that the Word of which he wrote is Christ Jesus the Lord.  But what about someone reading this for the first time?  In the Beginning was the Word.  What word?  Maybe they thought about God.

“In the beginning God” (Genesis 1:1)

     The first thing that John establishes is that this Word of which he spoke was not only with God in before creation but was God.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. (John 1:1-2)

     Second, he established that this Word did God things, Divine things.

“In the beginning God created” (Genesis 1:1)

All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made.” (John 1:3)

     Or maybe the original audience thought of the first words that were spoken by God.

Then God said, “Let there be light”; (Genesis 1:3)

     But John makes it abundantly clear that the Word, is not just some vocalization or divine command.  It is a person.  It is a person somehow separate and distinct from God, and at the same instant, it is God.  And so it was before anything that was created, because everything that was created was created through Him.  So this Word is uncreated.  This word is divine, for  everything uncreated is divine.  This Word is creative.  This Word is power.

     This Word is the source of life but also the sustainer of it. Through Him everything exists and consists (Col. 1:17).  The Life that He is, that He provides, was not just for those who heard or read this original letter.

In him was life; and the life was the light of men. (John 1:4 KJV)

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. (John 1:4 NIV)

     It was the light for all people, all people groups, all of humanity! The Illumination that can only be given by and received from Jesus, the Word of God, must be taken into the darkness.

“The Light shines in the Darkness…” (John 1:5)

     Many versions of the Bible translate this verse to say that the darkness did not comprehend the Light.  There are translations that say darkness didn’t overcome the light or overpower the light.  The original word in Greek (transliterated) is katalambano.  This means to overtake, to arrest, to capture or even hold tightly.  Additionally, it is to be understood as to perceive, understand or comprehend.

Consider the way we say that we struggle or wrestle with an idea.  Sometimes we might say that some one failed to grasp a concept.

I think that both ideas of warfare and understanding are in play here.  From the complete context of scripture I believe we can clearly see that God is at war with darkness, sin, and the world.  We also understand that He sees and knows all. Nothing is hidden from Him.

Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account. (Hebrews 4:13 NIV)

He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him. (Daniel 2:22 NIV)

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,” Even the night shall be light about me; Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, But the night shines as the day; The darkness and the light are both alike to You. (Psalms 139:11-12 NKJV)

     So we can see that God understands us even while we are sinners.  And He loves us while we are sinners.

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8 NIV)

For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! (Romans 5:10 NIV)

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16 NIV)

 

This makes me think of two things…

1. In The Art of War by Sun Tzu, the author and master tactician said

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

     Well, God knows Himself, and us, completely. Darkness on the other hand knows nothing of the light in the grand scheme of things.  Darkness not only couldn’t overcome the light because it couldn’t understand or comprehend it, but it can never and will never understand it or comprehend it.  The finite can not grasp the infinite, even if it thinks it can.

2. Orson Scott Card’s character of Ender in his science fiction master piece Ender’s Game said something profound.

“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves.”

     God knows us completely.  Only He can.  He knows us better than we could ever even know ourselves or anyone else.  And God loves us.  He loves us both despite the knowledge He has of us, and because of of that knowledge. His knowledge of us helped Him to not only pierce our darkness, to defeat it, but to transform it.  He has called us…

“out of darkness into his wonderful light.” (1 Peter 2:9 NIV)

     This is Missions.  It is God’s Mission and ours.  It was God’s strategy and it should be ours.  Know your enemy.  Love your enemy.

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Missiology, Missions, Theology

In the Beginning…Mission

Many people think that the Great Commission began when Jesus said in Matthew 28 “Go…” but this is a misconception. The Great Commission was first given in Genesis.

“27 So God created human beings in his own image.

In the image of God he created them;

male and female he created them.

28 Then God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and govern it. Reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals that scurry along the ground.” (Genesis 1:27-28 NKJV)

There are two key elements to this command that I would like to point out. First, this command was given to people who were both in the image of God but also in fellowship with him.  Second, this command was asking humanity to fill the earth by being fruitful (producing fruit), multiplying, filling the earth.

So what was the endgame?  What was God trying to accomplish?  God wanted the earth filled with men and women that were a reflection of Him and in relationship with Him.  Flash-forward to today and what do we have?  Humanity has done well with the “fill the earth” aspect of the command.  We have multiplied greatly, at least biologically.  However, humanity is, at its best, a marred reflection of our creator.  Imagine a statue of Quasimodo next to Michelangelo’s David and we haven’t even scratched the surface of the difference between what we should be and what we are.  None the less, we have “Filled the earth.”

The endgame hasn’t changed.  The goal is still the same.  God still wants the earth filled with men and women that are a reflection of Him and in relationship with Him.  That is where the Great Recommissioning comes into play in Matthew 28.

19 Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. 20 Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. (Matthew 28:19-20 NKJV)

So since we have already multiplied and filled the earth, what needs to be accomplished is bringing those souls back into relationship with God and restoring His image in them. This is what missions is all about; finishing the task given to us in the beginning.

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First Post, Missions, Purpose

Welcome!

Missions…is it the central theme of scripture?  Debates, theologies, philosophies and dogmas have been created, destroyed, and propagated based upon what men have supposed to be the central theme of the Bible.  I will not attempt to convince you that Missions is the pinnacle of scripture, but rather that it is the plan of God for every believer.

These pages will be my rants, my opinions and my prejudices about missions and ministry.  I suspect that one day, standing before a living God, who judges all thoughts and deeds, I will have a perspective that is more balanced and more full of grace than anything that will find itself recorded in these virtual pages.  However, until that day, I can only be faithful to that passionate fire that burns within me.  It is a burning passion stoked by the grace show to me by a loving God.  This fiery zeal compels me to not only dare myself, but other disciples, to show the same mercy that has been show to us, to those dark souls, who have yet to be illuminated by the Light of Christ Jesus Our Lord.

Note for the reader: When I write the term Missions, I will be speaking specifically of foreign missions.  When I wish to refer to domestic missions (even cross-cultural home missions) I will denote that within the text by referring to it as home missions.

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